


Friends

by Joking611



Series: Cari'ssi'mi Drabbles [28]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/F, F/M, Friendship, Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 04:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11729184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joking611/pseuds/Joking611
Summary: Garrus is looking for a little companionship at the end of a rough shift.





	Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge Yourself: A Month Of Fanfiction 2017
> 
> Saturday 8/5's prompt: Friends

_‘Well that was horrible.’_

Garrus stepped off the lift, another marathon session with Victus finally over. There was a time when he would have been flattered to advise the primarch, proud even. That time was long past. The last few weeks of providing strategic input, and worse, seeing his advice taken, was almost more than he could tolerate. To say that sacrificing a colony would save another, more strategic one was fine in theory. It was horrifying to watch the primarch agree, and then give the order.

At least seven million Turians were going to die today, and he had personally consigned several hundred thousand of them to their fate. Good men and women whose only crime had been to live on a colony world that produced grain instead of eezo.

He rounded the corner into the mess, taking in the vacant room. He took a deep breath, deciding that could use a little company. He couldn’t burden Shepard with his problems. If anything, he needed to do more to help the human with her responsibilities. He felt the weight of the Hierarchy on his shoulders, but she was carrying the whole damn galaxy.

“EDI?” He addressed the empty room.

“Yes, Officer Vakarian?” EDI’s body was nowhere to be seen, and her voice addressed him via the overhead PA.

“Where’s Shepard?” Maybe helping her with something would improve his mood.

“The commander is in the XO’s office. She and Dr. T’Soni have requested privacy.”

He couldn’t resist the temptation. “Oh? What are they up to?” He felt a little better already.

“The commander is currently…” EDI stopped mid sentence. “That wasn’t nice, Garrus.”

He chuckled softly. “No it wasn’t, and apparently you’re not actually giving them their privacy either.”

“It is my duty to see to the wellbeing of everyone on board the Normandy. I cannot do that if I am unable to ascertain their current condition.” Garrus thought he could almost detect a sniff at the end.

“Even if their current condition is a compromising one?”

“The current status of the occupants of the XO’s office is not available at this time,” EDI replied in a mechanical tone. 

“Good for you, EDI. I wouldn’t want to piss off Liara either.”

“Logging you out, Garrus.”

_‘One way to end a conversation. I should try that sometime.’_

He considered his options, and decided the observation lounge might be his best bet. Shepard had stocked the bar with dextro alcohols as well as levo, and a drink sounded just about right.

The hatch opened on a compartment that he had expected to be just as empty as the mess. The Normandy wasn’t anywhere close to what he would call fully crewed. It was kind of creepy, actually. Every time he was onboard the ship it had a smaller compliment. That just meant that he was particularly surprised when he found himself staring at the back of one of the two krogans on board. He’d barely begun to consider his options when Wrex took the initiative. 

“I know you’re there Bird. You might as well come in.”

Garrus walked over the bar, going behind it to see what dextro options were available. There were already several empty bottles of ryncol in front of the krogan.

“Bad day, Wrex?” He asked nonchalantly, indicating Wrex’ empties with his own bottle of brandy.

“Bad? Ha! We’re gonna cure the genophage! I’m never going to have a bad day again!”

Garrus shook his head as he poured his glass. “She is amazing, isn’t she?”

Wrex’ eyes narrowed. “Meaning?”

Garrus tilted his head at the sudden terseness in Wrex’s tone. “Meaning who would have thought anyone could do what she’s done? Stop a rogue spectre? Bring down the collectors? Pull a primarch right out from under the reapers? Curing the genophage seems almost easy in comparison.”

Wrex was silent for a moment. “OK.”

“OK?”

“Yeah, OK,” the krogan confirmed. “Just making sure you didn’t have anything else on your mind.”

Garrus knew what he meant. “I don’t.”

“Good.” Wrex took another drink. “I meant what I said before. Blue’s the perfect match for Shepard. You never stood a chance.”

“Thanks Wrex. If this is your idea of a pick-me-up, you’re failing miserably. Besides, I’m pretty happy with Allers.”

The krogan appeared to ignore the comment as he continued. “If anything, this is worse. Now I have to protect them both. Neither one of them is seeing this to the end alone.” Another glass of ryncol disappeared. “Shepard wouldn’t be alive without Blue, and then where would we be? And without Shepard we wouldn’t have the Shadow Broker on our team. They’re both indispensable.” He paused, as if only just remembering that Garrus was there. “And I was just pulling your tail before. I never thought you knew about that bomb on Tuchanka.”

“Thanks,” Garrus responded sarcastically to the backhanded compliment. _‘Time to face the varren,’_ he thought. “About that bomb…”

Wrex cut him off. “You mean the Cerberus bomb? That the primarch’s son gave his life to disarm? The one we owe the Turian Hierarchy our gratitude for neutralizing? That one?” Wrex met Garrus’ shocked stare. “What about it?”

“Wrex, I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything for once. Kalros knows I wish you’d keep that mouth shut on missions.” He poured himself yet another glass of ryncol. “We’re gonna cure the genophage. You’re part of that.”

“Thanks again, I think.”

“You don’t understand.” Wrex shook his massive head. “We may die tomorrow. We may ALL die. But the krogan aren’t going to die with the turian boot on our neck, or the salarian knife in our back, or with the sound of an asari chastising us in our ear.” He met Garrus’ gaze with earnest intensity. “We did this together. Shepard, Liara, Mordin, some other humans,” he waved a hand to take in the rest of the Normandy, “and my good friend Garrus. The only turian who hasn’t forgotten how to hold a gun.”

Garrus finished his brandy, not sure that there was an appropriate followup to such a sentiment. He decided to quit while he was ahead.

“I think I’m going to go see if Allers is done recording yet.”

Wrex reached for another bottle of ryncol. 

“Good.”


End file.
